Gone Away ~ The journal of Clive Allen in America

Lawton
19/10/2004
(This article forms part of the Journal that I am writing to describe my impressions of America since arrival in September, 2004. To begin reading this Journal from the beginning, click here.)

A week has passed now and I can begin to reflect on my firstimpressions of my new home. In this week as much rain has fallen onLawton, Oklahoma, as would fall in a month in Coventry. This wasmainly during the course of a huge thunderstorm we had a couple ofnights ago, but there have been days of overcast and drizzle too. Itis hot today and the moisture of the previous days was sucked up in acloud of heavy humidity during the morning. And still the cricketssaw away at their song…

It is possible to go to the other end of Lawton (the east, I think)and look back from the ridge that, more or less, demarcates the end ofthe town and the beginning of the prairie. On the horizon the WichitaMountains shimmer in the distance and all the space between is filledwith the orderly streets and buildings of Lawton.

Well, they call them mountains. In reality they are hills - bigenough to be remarkable in such a flat landscape. The prairie is notas flat as we imagine it. The horizon is as flat as a pancake but inbetween there are ups and downs and creeks that make the country quiteinteresting. And in the creek beds there are trees. It's likelooking across an old wooden table - get down low and it looks flatbut as you move across it you realise there are bumps and ridges anddips. In Kansas the creeks have cut quite deeply into the landscapeand they form secret winding and wooded valleys that you don't seeuntil you're almost on top of them. But the overall impression of thecountry is one of space. The grass that covers most of the prairie isshort, much shorter than in Africa (where the grass can be higher thanyour head) and this makes the open vistas even more impressive. Youfeel as if it could go on forever (and it nearly does).

Lawton is a small town but still about the fourth biggest in Oklahoma.Oklahoma City is the only really big city, Tulsa is about half thatsize and Lawton is much smaller than either of them. But remember I'mtalking population here. In area, all of them are huge, much biggerthan English cities and towns. Every house has its "yard", back andfront and anything from half an acre to two acres in extent. So thesuburbs stretch for miles. Then there are the stores - they all havetheir parking lots around them and so are like islands in a tarmacsea. And there are usually only a few stores on each block. Thereare empty blocks too where no-one has bothered to build yet. Theimpression of these prairie towns is the same as for the prairie -they're flat and stretch forever. There is a small centre to the townwhere the blocks are filled by buildings but none of these is morethan three storeys high, so there is no sudden leap in height at thecentre that you get in larger American cities. That's really whatmakes Lawton a "small town". It hasn't reached the size where landprices have soared and therefore it's not worth building upwards. Youwanna expand your business? Hey, just buy the empty lot next door andbuild over onto that.

We needed a break this week and to have a look at our new home. I hadnoticed signs for the Museum of the Great Plains in our house-hunting,so we decided to have a look at it. In England a name like that wouldresult in a run-down, dusty exhibition in a private house but nothere; this is America after all and they know how to do museums. Wefound it to be a series of huge, imposing buildings set in acres ofparkland, beautifully kept.

The car park is extensive but occupied by only three cars – we addours and proceed to the entrance. Inside all is quiet. There is alarge reception room with a circular desk where we can pay, theinevitable gift shop in the background and exhibits scattered aroundto whet the appetite. And all is deserted.

I suppose we could have wandered through the museum and escapedwithout paying but, being well-trained and conscientious citizens, wemanage to find a staff member (an impossibly diminutive and cheerfullady) and establish our legal and paid-for right to inspect themuseum.

Everything starts with an exhibition of local mosaics. I am surethere were some worthy artistic efforts amongst the exhibits but whatstays in my memory is the work of one artist in particular. Shespecialises in constructing faces from broken crockery and, withoutexception, each face has ears made from cup handles. There issomething so ridiculous in this that it pushes everything else from mymind.

Moving on, we come to the museum itself. In the centre is a massivereconstruction of a saber tooth cat (yes, we used to call them tigersbut the modern world has decided to step back from such an easyassertion and now they are portrayed as resembling mountain lions)attacking a monstrous mammal of some kind. I want to call it a giantsloth (knowing that such creatures existed in the Americas untilfairly recent times) but the head seems more like that of an overgrownguinea pig. We read the information scattered around the exhibit butcan find no reference to the saber tooth's prey apart from a briefmention of giant bison. I'm sorry, but that's no bison!

Around the huge room there are exhibits set into the walls and these Ifind very interesting. They show the development of arrow- andspearheads from the earliest times in North America. All of theexamples shown were found in Oklahoma so that we have a truly localhistory here. I spend a lot of time reading everything about theseexhibits while Kathy finds a bench upon which to wait.

In the next room we come upon more recent history. The settlement ofOklahoma spreads before us in a reconstruction of a western town withstores, tents and vehicles just as they were in the bad old days.

I confess to being an historical snob. To me, the older it is, themore interesting. These wooden houses, these clumsy implements andyellowed news sheets seem too close to yesterday and, perhaps, alittle unsettling in that they demonstrate too clearly how far we havecome in just 150 years. In the bank I see office tools that werestill in use in Zimbabwe's High Court when I worked there in thesixties.

I am saved by a little side room containing Native American artifacts.Their beadwork is outrageously beautiful, their clothing so, wellyes, I have to admit it, romantic. No race or tribe, not even themighty Zulu or giant Watutsi, was ever so magnificently arrayed. Eventheir tribal names are evocative – my favourites, the Comanche, theirallies, the Kiowa and the Arikawa.

Of course, I know that my love of the Plains Indians is romantic andsilly, that I would feel very differently if confronted by them at theheight of their rage at the injustices of the white man and they werebent upon the lifting of my own scalp. But this wistful nostalgia forthe glory of their past does no-one any harm, I think, and besides, Ienjoy it.

I have conveyed little of the supreme ability of the Americans inpresenting the contents of their museums. As well as thearchitect-drawn and imposing nature of the buildings they erect tohouse these things, they are gifted in their presentation of even themost meager items. There is none of the dust that seems to settle onany exhibit in a British museum, everything is carefully thought outand given its proper place in the order of all and due care is takenfor the comfort of any that might view these hallowed halls. I amreminded of my previous visits to Presidential Libraries. Here thereis the same sense of peace and learning, the same respect, reverenceindeed, for the past. What a wonderful and, at times, surprisingpeople they are.

We finish our tour with the obligatory inspection of the gift shop.And here, I'm afraid, I am ambushed – they have books! I see ahistory of the Arapaho and want it desperately. Yet here is a similarbook dealing with the Kiowa which I must have. And over here, anaccount of the Cheyenne escape from Indian Territory to return totheir homeland in the North. I want them all but know I must limitmyself to one. The Cheyenne book wins because it has been reduced inprice. I hug my purchase, savouring the delight that it holds instore for me.

On the way out we meet another member of the staff and, in the courseof our chatter, it transpires that she lives just across the streetfrom Larry and Tracey – we are neighbours. A small incident, but onethat demonstrates the friendliness of Americans (in Britain we wouldnot have said enough to each other to become aware of the coincidenceof our homes) and the fact that this is, indeed, a small town.

Outside the building we have what seems to me a quintessentiallyAmerican experience. In driving through the acres of car park, Inotice a small animal at the side of the road. It is a rodent of somedescription, about the size of a hare. Suddenly I realize that it isa prairie dog, a gopher, a groundhog, indeed. Even Kathy is surprisedto see one here in a park surrounded by the town and we stop and watchthe little fellow for a while.

Then we become aware of two more watching us from nearby. And thereare three moving around in the field. As our eyes become adjusted tothe sight of these amusing little animals, we realize that there arelots of them, perhaps even hundreds, all going about their prairie dogbusiness in the wide parkland that stretches beyond the museumbuildings. They have been very busy too, for the characteristicmounds that they build when digging their holes are scattered over thegrassland. How did this isolated community come to be here? We haveno idea.

Continuing on our way, we pass a building separate from the mainmuseum. In large letters it proclaims itself the "Museum of thePercussive Arts". Now there is a title to conjure with, a feast forthe imagination!

Actressdancer
You surely would be intersted to journey just outside of St. Louis to a place called Cohokia Mounds. It's the site of what's thought to be the oldest civilization in North America. Truly wonderful museum, but more impressive are the actual ruins. It's worth noting here, that you would have to drive right past my front door in Springfield to get there :). I would be pleased to have scones and tea waiting (and I must say I make a mean scone). Date Added: 09/01/2005

Gone Away
I have seen the Cohokia Mounds on television, Actress and I agree - they are fascinating. Who knows, one day I just might be able to take you up on your kind offer of scones and tea! Date Added: 09/01/2005

prying1
- Quote - We finish our tour with the obligatory inspection of the gift shop. And here, I'm afraid, I am ambushed – they have books! - end quote -
Haha! They sure did see you coming. Lovely post Clive - I need sleep so I'll travel on through your past in the future. Date Added: 17/05/2005

Gone Away
Thanks, Paul. I'm a sucker for a bookshop - let me in there and you can guarantee I'll come out laden with purchases. ;) Date Added: 17/05/2005

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